


Redemption for those Who Percieve Themselves Unworthy

by LadyoftheValley



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Graphic Descriptions of Mental Illness, Hospitalization, Implied Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Other Additional Chapters To Be Added, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pianist Akaashi Keiji, So Much Friendship, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Watch, Temporary Character Death, Therapy, depression naps, sunlight as a natural comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2018-09-24 00:03:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9689756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyoftheValley/pseuds/LadyoftheValley
Summary: Akaashi has depression. He knows this, he's accepted this. All he wants is for it all to end, but those closest to him refuse to let him fall any further down the hole. This is a story about his slow recovery.





	1. The Day Of the Attempt

**Author's Note:**

> Normally I do not put notes in front of my works. But this time, I feel that it is necessary to. I do not condone the option of suicide. I do not feel like suicide is the answer to any problem. I do understand the crushing weight of sadness and an emptiness in your chest that you can't seem to fill. I'm drawing on personal feelings to write the emotion into these characters.
> 
> If you feel like suicide is an option you are considering, I ask you to reach out to someone you trust, or even a stranger that might be able to sympathize with the way you feel. I'm always an option to talk to, no matter what about.
> 
> Here are the links I can offer. Please, if you need them, use them.  
> -The Suicide Prevention Hotline -- Call 1-800-273-8255  
> -The Crisis Textline -- Text "Home" to 741741 --> Note: they handle many issues, not just suicide  
> -suicidepreventionlifeline.org/safe-space -- This offers three videos to help calm you down from a moment, one of a breathing tool, one of calm waves, and one of a kitten  
> -International Suicide Hotlines -- http://www.suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html

_Koutarou,  
Please excuse this letter instead of an actual visit, but I knew that if I saw you and said what I have to say, you would have stopped me. I never could say no to you, and I think you knew that. You always knew how to best get me to go along with whatever caught your attention. Perhaps I was not always against it either, so I won’t blame all of our misadventures on you. I am partly to blame. _

_But I’m getting sidetracked from the real goal of this letter. It’s not to talk about you. It is more so to talk about me, we, us. Ever since my first year, it has always been us. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would find a friend in someone as loud and outgoing as you. I never imagined having a friend. But through you, you gave me Kuroo and Kenma and our team and so many people that I didn’t even know what to do with. You have given me so much, Koutarou._

_And now… Now I’m going to give it all back. I don’t have much, but I left it all to you. All of the clothes we bought together, all of the albums, all of the silly keychains. All of the pictures you demanded we take are hanging on the walls of my room, and I leave them all to you. I know I never let you come over, and you just accepted it without a word, but now I’m giving you permission. I have even left you the key. Please, go and take everything you want to keep, and throw out the rest. I have no use for it anymore._

_To put it plainly, Koutarou, I’m going away for a while, and I can never come back, no matter how much you ask. Because I’m sick. I’m very, very sick and I don’t know any other way to fix this sickness other than to go away and take care of it. There’s… a deep darkness in my chest, and I don’t ever want you to see me when I’m broken and decayed. You cannot follow me. Let me write that again, and I want you to say it aloud. You can not follow me. I will be waiting for you when it is time, but please, do not follow me until it is your time to do so. The world still needs a ray of light like you, unlike a broken husk like me. I’ll never understand why you wasted your time on a broken piece of work like me, but I will always be grateful for the time we had together._

_I love you, Koutarou. The words I never got to tell you._

_Love, Keiji_

Akaashi was sick, had always been sick, will always be sick. The kind of sickness that makes your chest cold and rots your brain with thoughts of inadequacy and hatred. He felt like he was broken, and useless, and constantly at war with himself. Bokuto had alleviated the pain for a while, gave him a purpose as the vice-captain, and a way to escape his own mind to focus on Bokuto’s.

And then Bokuto went off to university, and they lost touch. Akaashi fell back into the decaying mess that was his mind. He tried for a while, and then even trying was too much, too risky. So eventually, he decided to cure himself. He spent a month packing his house up to make it easier for everyone, setting the boxes neatly around the small apartment he rented. Akaashi only wanted this to go as smoothly as possible. He would hate to be an inconvenience to anyone.

Now he only had to get the letter to Bokuto, something he had spent the previous month drafting over and over and over until it held some semblance explaining anything to his Koutarou. It was the only thing he was leaving behind to tell of his disappearance. He wanted his last call to be to Bokuto, to hear him one last time. He’d call the police and they’d find a piece of paper in his pocket of his parents’ numbers, and then instructions to call his parents and friends. He’d… miss them all dearly, but this pit in his chest was so much stronger than any feelings of love he had left.

He dropped the letter off in Bokuto’s mail slot for him to find when he woke up, before he went to the reservation area. Akaashi chose a spot not easily seen from the trail, and sat down under one of his favorite trees. He loved coming here in the summer, when he could read in the shade while Bokuto ran around, trying to find cool leaves and rocks to collect. Tears slid down his face before he pulled out the water and sleeping pills he had been prescribed six months earlier to help with the insomnia. Akaashi had never been a fan of taking pills, because they made his throat close up and choke, but he knew the choking sensation was necessary before he could finally be at peace.

He swallowed. One handful. Two. Three. Until there were none left. Took a sip of the water he brought to make it all go down easier.

Akaashi wanted to hear Bokuto’s voice as his mind started to get fuzzy. He had Bokuto on speed dial, and held the ringing phone close. Bokuto picked up on the second ring, “Keiji! Keiji? What’s this letter? What’s going on?”

There’s another voice on the line as well, “Pretty boy? Where are you? Let us come get you.” That’s Kuroo, definitely Kuroo. He liked Kuroo. Except Kuroo and Bokuto were the ones together, leaving Akaashi without either. It was selfish, and he hated himself for being so selfish.

Akaashi sighed, getting lethargic and sluggish, the sleeping pills doing their job, “I just… I wanted to call and tell you goodbye. If I would have come to tell you in person, you both would have stopped me.” Just keep it straight to the point if they had already found the letter and read it.

“Of course we would have, Keiji!” Bokuto yells, clearly upset, but Kuroo is so much calmer, “That doesn’t matter right now, Pretty Boy. Where are you?”

With a slow look around, because his mind is foggy, he recalls, “The reservation, in my spot. You know, the one by the lookout.” He hadn’t meant to tell them, but he was getting sleepy, and he was always more honest when he was sleepy. Akaashi couldn’t see the point of keeping it a secret anymore either. He was just so tired.

Kuroo sighs, “Okay, okay. That’s fine. We can come get you right now; we just need you to stay on the phone with us, okay? We need you to focus on our voices.” Bokuto’s voice is loud in his ear, but he almost welcomes it, “Yeah! We’re getting in the car now. We’re coming to get you at the reservation, just off the trail by the lookout tower.” There’s something about the way that he says it that tells Akaashi something is wrong, but he can’t quite tell what it is now. He pulls the phone from his ear and puts it on speakerphone, so he doesn’t have to hold it up anymore.

“I’m really sleepy. I just… really want a nap.”

Kuroo voice gets more urgent, “No, Keiji. We need you to stay awake and talk to us. We’ll be there soon.” Distantly, Akaashi heard the sound of sirens. Bokuto presses on, “Could you tell us what you’ve done? I need to tell… We need to know.”

Akaashi shivers, even though it’s warm out. His eyes close of their own accord, “It’s… I took my pills. All of them, and now I’m… I’m so tired. I’m dizzy and please just let me sleep. I don’t want to be awake anymore.”

“Selfish!” Bokuto yells, sounding like he’s crying now, “Stop being selfish and stay awake and stay with us!”

Akaashi feels a small smile creep onto his face, “I’m sorry, Bokuto-san. Please let me be selfish just this once. I can’t think straight.” It was true. It was getting harder for him to think. It was also getting harder to breathe, not that he necessarily wanted to breathe anymore.

Kuroo talks quietly, “Tell me about what you see, Pretty Boy. What’s around you?”

Akaashi forces his eyes open and looks around himself, at all the trees and the bushes, and the tower in the distance, “I see a lot of green. There’s trees and bushes and flowers. I like the flowers. They’re a dark purple and white.” He looked around more, but the world was getting blurrier and spinning slightly. “I… I can’t focus anymore. It hurts.”

Bokuto pleads through the tiny speaker, “Please, Keiji, please be okay. Stay awake and keep talking and keep looking no matter how much it hurts. We’re almost there. I promise we’re almost there.”

The sirens are louder, closing in on where Akaashi is. Were they for him? He hoped not. He didn’t want to inconvenience anyone. Someone dead couldn’t be an inconvenience anymore.

Akaashi sighed as he leaned back more against the tree, getting comfortable. He mumbled quietly, “I’m going to go to sleep.”

They both yell a “No!” followed by a chorus of “Stay awake” and “Talk to us.” Nevertheless, Akaashi stops listening, clicking the red button to hang up the call, his hand dropping limply to his side once the task is done.

He’s just so tired, and for once, the emptiness in his chest is giving him some relief, even though he’s still shivering. He never imagined death would be so cold, but he guessed that he just had to deal with it for a few moments longer. Akaashi lets out a few more shallow breaths before he falls asleep, the sound of nature and sirens fading into silence.


	2. Three Days After

There was nothing but a cold darkness that greeted Akaashi when he regained some semblance of a consciousness. He wondered if this was what death was like. Was it really this cold? Was it really this dark? People who told him that there was a welcoming light or a new life or even a release of a soul to go watch over your family had lied.

But then he realized death wasn’t far from the feeling that had been sitting in his chest for years, a constant and cold emptiness. That feeling still thrummed under his skin. He sat for minutes? Hours? Years? There was no sense of time in this darkness, but there was a distinct sense of urgency, as if he had to hurry. What for? Akaashi was dead; what did he still have to feel hurried over?

Akaashi floated there in his darkness, ready to lay there forever if it gave him some sense of peace. But he became acutely aware of a warmth, and a buzzing. What could that be? If he had eyes, he would have opened them to try to find the source of the sensations. Death should not have allowed him to feel such sensations. Did that mean he had failed?

That brought him an overwhelming sadness, because now he was just a failure again. People would see him as a failure. Bokuto and Kuroo would see him as a failure, his parents would see him as a failure, his peers would see him as a failure. All because his body didn’t die. That emptiness swallowed his heart once more, when he finally thought he would be rid of it. If he could cry, he would be.

Akaashi tried to turn away from the warmth still incessantly pressing in on his emptiness, but he couldn’t do much. He was beginning to feel too weak, too sore, so he succumbed to the warmth and buzz.

He was greeted with a haze of white, something far too bright, so he tried to pull away from it, but that made a wave of pain rush down his body. Akaashi tried focusing himself, keeping his eyes closed while he had a moment to gather himself, before he tried again. The whiteness slowly came into focus, even as the pain rolled through his body in waves. His body tried to pull him into a panic, because it was hurt and the lights were blinding and he was too cold. But he told himself to breathe, the oxygen mask on his face doing its job to help him. In… Out… Don’t hold it, because your body won’t let you, make it natural. In… Out…

Once Akaashi was back to a somewhat stable breathing pattern, he tried to look around, and tears gathered in his eyes, wishing he never opened them.

They were there, around his hospital bed. Bokuto, Kuroo, Kenma. Even Oikawa was here. How could he be such an inconvenience to them? Why did they all have to be here? Why did they have to see him when he was so broken and empty?

They were all asleep, Bokuto and Kuroo in the chairs beside his bed, the other two squished on the bench by the window. They all looked so tired. His heartbeat spiked, and a tiny alarm went off on the monitor. Akaashi closed his eyes again as the machine startled everyone awake. He heard their gasps, groans, and frantic whispers. He assumed it was Bokuto and Kuroo that grabbed his hands.

That’s when the tears started to fall, and everyone around him fell silent. He opened his eyes, even though he didn’t want to, and first looked at Bokuto. He looked tired, worn out from crying too much. His hair wasn’t gelled up in its usual style either. He caused that. Then his eyes slid over to Kuroo, and he looked so much thinner, bed head even more pronounced than usual. He caused that too.

When the nurse walked in, probably brought by the alarm, Akaashi pulled his hands away from them to hide his crying face, wanting to be left alone. He didn’t cry in front of others. That wasn’t who he was. Akaashi was the strong one that others cried to, not the one who cried. The nurse came over, shooing his friends out into the hall, while she checked him.

“That was a lot of Amitriptyline you ingested, so you might still feel a bit tense and groggy, but that’ll pass soon. You just have to stay awake,” She speaks softly as she deals with the machines, messing with the needle in his arm to make sure it had not come loose while he was asleep. “We had to pump your stomach, but you were comatose for that, so your throat might still be sore. I’m going to remove your oxygen mask now, and I’ll have some food brought in for you. I’m going to need you to eat everything we give you. Can you move your hands for me?”

Akaashi didn’t want to comply, but he did, letting the nurse see his red and blotchy face from crying, and she gently took off the oxygen mask. Without it, Akaashi found that it really was hard for him to pull air into his lungs. She notices, eyes softening, “If you’re still having trouble breathing after you eat, I’ll put it back on you, but you have to try to breathe on your own for a bit.”

Akaashi nods his understanding, and the nurse stands up straight and goes out to speak with his friends, speaking softly. He doesn’t try to listen in, focusing on drawing air into his lungs. He didn’t want to, he wanted to stop breathing, but his body wouldn’t let him. They all came back to his bedside once the nurse was done speaking to them, taking his hands again.

Bokuto spoke first, “Keiji? How are you feeling?” It broke his heart to hear his normally cheery voice so hesitant. But he pulled back on his mask of indifference, the one he had spent years of his life wearing and perfecting, so that he could try to smooth over the despair sitting on his chest, “I’m fine, Bokuto-san.”

Then Kuroo spoke up, irritation evident in his voice, even if he was trying to hold it back, “You know that’s bullshit.” Akaashi glanced over at him, eyes icy and distant, the same as ever, “I do.”

Surprisingly, Oikawa blew up first, “Do you not realize the hell you just put us through? Especially those two since they were the ones who had to go and find you? The least you could do is answer their questions instead of acting like a snarky bitch!”

Akaashi’s eyes widen a fraction before he gets a hold on himself, swallowing the tears that threaten him and staying perfectly blank, “Fine. You want to know? I feel hopeless because I’m awake. I feel like a failure because it didn’t work and I’m still here. I want to scratch at my skin and bleed, just to have some sort of sensation other than this overwhelming monsoon of despair and hopelessness and overall negativity swirling in my chest. I want to rip out my IVs and smash my head against the wall to get my mind on the pain and off the fact that now I have to live. I do not want to live. I don’t want to wake up every day seeing nothing to look forward to. I don’t want to wake up every day and look longingly at the razor that I could use to slit my throat and end this all so much easier. I don’t want to live seeing you all look at me now like I’m a failure and that I’m crazy and that I can’t handle it. I thought I was being considerate by not leaving behind a mutilated corpse for anyone to find. I thought I was being considerate by passing quietly and not horrifically, so you all wouldn’t have the image of my gruesome death imprinted in your heads.”

His eyes got more and more angry as he spoke, his words more heated, his body more tense. The tears spilled over his cheeks without permission, but he was too busy glaring at Oikawa to wipe them away. What was the point anyway? They didn’t get it. They would never get it.

Now they’re all wide-eyed and crying, just like Akaashi didn’t want, so he pulls back into himself, pulling the blanket up and over himself to hide from their gazes, “Please, leave me alone.”

Kenma’s the one who responds softly, “We can’t. At least one person has to stay with you at all times to make sure you don’t do anything drastic.”

Akaashi sighs, peeking out of his blankets, “Then please don’t speak to me until my food gets here. I’m not bold enough to inconvenience everyone by doing something stupid in the hospital, but I just… I’m tired.”

That was a way of saying that he was emotionally tired and couldn’t handle more. So they let him lay there in the quiet, with them whispering to each other. Once again, Akaashi didn’t try to listen in, even though he heard a few “shouldn’t have’s” and “deserved it’s.” That terrified him. Was it him they were talking about?

A different nurse walked in with a tray of food for him. He was so much younger, maybe just an intern, and he shook as he set the tray on the little table provided. He helped Akaashi adjust the bed so he could sit up to eat without using too much of the little energy he had recovered, and made sure none of the tubes were stuck oddly.

He looked at Akaashi, nervous, “Umm, are you okay to eat? We got the soft food for you so it wouldn’t be so hard on your throat. The tube isn’t the most pleasant thing.”

Akaashi nodded, speaking soft, “Thank you. I’m fine.”

The boy nodded and looked at the others, “Umm, I have to be here to make sure he eats everything without much difficulty, so you all can go take a break.” Bokuto looked torn, but Kuroo took his hand and pulled him away, presumably to go eat something. Oikawa followed after. But Kenma stayed, taking the chair beside his bed and pulling out his game to distract himself while he waited. So Akaashi ate, forcing his hands to stop shaking once he found they were still weak from being asleep.

“How long was I asleep?” He asked quietly. Kenma answered without skipping a beat, “Three days.”

Akaashi paused for a moment, before he nodded and continued to drink the smoothie that had been brought with his other food. That seemed like a reasonable time to be asleep. That also seemed like a logical amount of time to get everyone worried. He did that. So now he felt bad for snapping at Oikawa and being a jerk to Bokuto and Kuroo. He sighs, hurriedly finishing the food just so he could stop eating. Since he couldn’t just not eat, he had to stuff himself so he could just stop.

Once he had finally gotten all of the food down, the nurse takes the tray and tells them both a nervous goodbye. With him gone, Akaashi laid down, and the others returned. Bokuto held out a chocolate shake with hesitant hands, so Akaashi took it gently, drinking it slowly. Chocolate shakes were his favorite. He felt like crying again, so he kept his face down, not allowing them to see the emotions flashing across his face, “Thank you, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto’s voice is shaky as he replies, “You’re welcome, Keiji.”

Kuroo sits down beside Kenma, looking at Akaashi, “You had us really worried there, pretty boy. You were out for three days after taking those pills.”

Akaashi dips his head down, “I know…”

“So we need you to talk to us, and no hiding behind lies that’ll make us feel better,” Kuroo presses on. Akaashi closes his eyes and sets the shake aside. He wasn’t ready for this. He was not ready for them to see his ugliness.

Akaashi’s heart beats faster, audible by the heart monitor tracking it, and his breath comes quicker. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready. Then he felt arms around him, gentle and warm and constant.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. Don’t tell us yet. We can wait, right Tetsu? We don’t have to talk about it right now. Keiji just woke up, after all. He’s probably not very good at thinking and talking yet, you know? He isn’t all there when he’s tired. You know that.” Bokuto is holding him and defending him and he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve Bokuto’s kindness.

When he started crying, they all gathered around him, wrapping him in their arms around him. And Akaashi cried into them, one hand clutching onto Kenma while the other grabbed Oikawa, and his head rested in between Kuroo’s and Bokuto’s, their cheeks pressing against his as he cried. He was being such a crybaby, but he needed this. Akaashi needed to let it all out.

While he was desolate and overwhelmed and anxious, there was a small spark of happiness that they were here with him.

They cared enough to stay.


	3. Four Days After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never been on suicide watch, so this is the best my research has brought me. It is probably more terrifying than I've put Akaashi through in this chapter, and I don't mean to downplay the severity of it, but without the personal experience of myself or another, my research on the matter can only get me so far. I'm sorry if I offend anyone with my portrayal.

It was… rough transitioning from the hospital to the psychiatric care facility for his suicide watch. After all Akaashi had said in the hospital room, the doctors deemed it necessary for him to be put under professional supervision for a week to watch the start of his recovery there. They let Bokuto and Kuroo as far as his room door, only because Akaashi insisted, quite forcefully.

“It’ll be fine, pretty boy! It’s only for a week, right? It’ll be over in no time, and we’ll be here to pick you up as soon as they let you go.” Kuroo is trying to encourage him, but it only made him more nervous. What if they didn’t? What if they left him here because they realized he was too much of a hassle to keep around? What if they didn’t want to deal with him anymore?

Bokuto had a tight hold on his hand, pulling him along and talking to the woman who led him inside, things like food and sleeping arrangements and care and comfort. He was being the adult in the situation. That was Akaashi’s job, wasn’t it? To take care of the others?

However, once they got to Akaashi’s newly assigned room, they had to leave him at the door. Akaashi knew they had to leave him, so he didn’t argue, but it hurt him to see them walking away, hand in hand. He wanted to be in the middle of that, holding their hands in his. He couldn’t hold back the look of longing that passed his face, nor could he stop the soft whimper.

The orderly took him into his new room for the next week, letting him look around the small room that reeked of medical cleaners and isolation, “We’ll have you change into the uniform and get checked for all of your marks before we can allow you to do anything. You will be under our constant supervision, so we need you to cooperate if we’re going to help you. We’ll wake you for breakfast at 8am, lunch at 1pm, and dinner at 6pm, with curfew at 8pm and lights out at 9pm.”

Akaashi nods, taking in that information. That is a schedule he could adhere to, he thinks; if he doesn’t go into an episode during those times. He turned to her, face mostly blank aside from the defeat in his eyes, “Thank you. Please let me change and be inspected now. I’d like to get to sleep.”

She shakes her head and holds out the clothes that she had brought in with her, letting Akaashi take them before she grabs her clipboard, “Once you’re undressed, I’ll take note of all of the marks on your body, just in case we find any new ones. We have to be careful with you.” Akaashi sighs, because that is an inconvenience and an embarrassment to both him and the one who’s going to be watching him, but it needed to be done. He started to strip down, not feeling the usual insecurity of his body. Maybe it was because it was her, a nurse trained to look at his body as a medical specimen instead of a human. Maybe that made her more okay than others.

She checks him over, every limb, front and back, writing down each and every mark on his body. The freckles dusting his shoulders, the moles on his arms and back, the scars both old and new. It was humiliating, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as much as he should. That required energy he just didn’t have.

Bokuto and Kuroo, Oikawa and Kenma, they all saw what a wreck he was in the hospital, they saw him for the broken shell that he so desperately tried to hide from them. No one had needed to know. So what did it matter anymore? What use was it to try to hide anymore? That used more energy that he didn’t have.

Finally, finally, she finishes writing down Akaashi’s imperfections and allows him to put on the pale blue pajama-like scrubs and the bright red identification wristband, itchy and cold in a way that aggravates him, makes him feel even more isolated and alone. He wanted to go home and curl up in his blankets on his own bed and away from prying eyes. Akaashi wanted to be left alone.

A man walks in, allowing the woman to leave with her clipboard and Akaashi’s clothes, and he sat down on the chair beside the door, watching Akaashi. Akaashi ignores him and climbs into bed, even as he begins to speak, “It’s nice to meet you, Akaashi. My name is Akiteru, and I’ll be with you for the next twelve hours, until your first night ward comes in.”

Akaashi curls a bit more into himself, “I’m sorry to inconvenience you.”

The warden, Akiteru, starts to try to console him with soft words, “No, you’re not an inconvenience to me. My day now focuses on you for the next four days, and I don’t want you to think that you’re inconveniencing me at all. I’m happy to help you.”

Akaashi finally looked over at him, falling back on the familiar feeling of analyzing someone, probably biasedly, much like they couldn’t do to him, “You’re happy to get a paycheck to watch over another depressed mess, one of the easiest jobs because all they want to do is lay in bed and stay in their room. I can’t be an inconvenience to you because I won’t want to do anything, is that right?” He felt cold, colder than he should have been, and a shiver ran down his spine, making him pull the blankets closer, almost defensively, “I don’t need a babysitter.”

Akiteru sat back a bit, looking stunned and the faintest bit hurt. It made Akaashi almost feel bad for the outburst. Akiteru was doing his job, and Akaashi needed to do his. It was only for a week. He could handle a week, perhaps…

So he turned over to face Akiteru, hiding his face mostly in the blankets, only letting his eyes peek out, “Umm… I don’t… I don’t mean to be rude.”

“I know, but you can’t help it. You’re hurt, and so you’re lashing out. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” Akaashi pulls away from that, because he’s right, but he still doesn’t deserve it. Akaashi was just being a jerk because he wanted to be anywhere but here and in this situation.

Akiteru sits forward, “Want to go to the lounge? There’ll probably be some others there, if you want to talk to someone, or if you want to do something other than lay here.” Akaashi sits up, holding the blankets tight around him, “How long would I have to be there?” He didn’t want to go, but he knew that going out of his room and doing something would help relieve him of some of this tension.

“However long you’re comfortable with,” Akiteru smiles and gets up from his chair. Akaashi slowly followed suit, letting the blanket fall from his hands and down his shoulders, laying rumpled on the bed. But Akaashi left it, and slowly followed Akiteru out into the hall. It was supposed to be more comforting than an actual hospital hall, but it only unsettled him. He was staying here for the next week.

As they go down the hall, Akaashi feels his hands begin to tremble, so he clasps them tightly behind himself, walking behind his warden. In the lounge, Akaashi saw three other patients, two playing cards while the other was reading in one of the beanbags. Akiteru motions Akaashi into the room, letting Akaashi go at his own pace.

There was a small bookshelf, several board games, cards, and a tv that seemed to have no remote. Then he saw the only thing he wanted: the small piano. Akaashi went over to the instrument, hesitant and nearly afraid, touching the keys almost reverently. It had been so long.

His fingers shook as he pressed the first key, jumping slightly at how loud it had been in the quiet room. The others glanced over at the sudden noise, before they returned to their own tasks. Akaashi sat on the bench provided, fingers hovering over the keys once more, before he started to play one of the songs he remembered, slow and lonely before growing in intensity.

He played over and over until his fingers cramped, until he was panting softly from holding back the emotion that came along with playing. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t cry.

Akaashi paused to catch his breath, pulling his hands back to press them against his eyes. Then he heard a soft clap, followed by another, then another. He turned to look over his shoulder, and he saw quite a few other patients gathered there, watching him earnestly. Akaashi did not like it. He looked for Akiteru, who he found standing by the wall close by.

Akiteru walked over to him, keeping quiet to speak only to Akaashi, “They came in while you were playing. It’s been a while since anyone has played the piano in here.”

Akaashi’s hands trembled, so he pulled at his fingers, rubbing the volleyball callouses, trying to calm his nerves. He hadn’t meant to cause a scene. He didn’t want to be noticed like this.

A girl stepped forward, too young to be here in Akaashi’s opinion, too young not to have the will to live, all soft smiles and curious eyes, “Could you keep playing?” Then a boy came to her side, untrusting eyes shifting too quickly, but his voice wavered in his attempt to communicate, “It’s been really quiet for a while, so to hear music is really nice.”

Akaashi is afraid of being the center of attention, of having all of these eyes on him as he played something once so personal as his soul on the piano.

So Akaashi turns his back to them all without a second glance, holding his hands over the keys, now hesitant and trembling. Then he began to play again, another song he could recall. This one was a bit more somber, more vulnerable than he usually let himself get. With the people at his back and Akiteru to his side, he played for hours, his fingers becoming cramped, his elbows and wrists stiff.

He only stopped once they rang the bell for dinner. While the others filed out, he sat still, rubbing his fingers and wrists as he stared down at the keys. It had been so long since he touched the cold keys of the piano. It was a useless skill, to know how to play a piano, unless he was the very best and selling out concert halls. That’s what his parents had said when he decided to take lessons. They would never tell him that he couldn’t do something, but they made their opinion on the matter crystal clear.

Akiteru moves beside Akaashi, careful not to touch him, “It’s time for dinner. We need to go to the cafeteria now. Meals are mandatory.”

Akaashi slowly rises from the bench with a nod and a whispered, “Yes, sir.” He was feeling more distant after playing, the decay sitting heavy in his chest, constricting his lungs. Even with that effect, he still wanted to play. It would at least keep him sane during his time here.

He follows the others to the cafeteria, glancing around. The others were mostly in line to receive their food, but Akaashi saw a few stubbornly refusing to eat. He saw their handlers nearly forcing the food in their mouths, and Akaashi shivered. He didn’t want that even more than his body didn’t want the food.

So he got in line and ate whatever they gave him, with Akiteru standing off in the corner, chatting with the other wardens while still keeping an eye on Akaashi. This was more difficult than he thought it would be; all of these people so close and dealing with everything he was as well.

All through dinner, Akaashi hides himself from the other patients, even if they try to ask him about his piano skills, if he’ll play longer, if he plays anything else. It makes Akaashi uncomfortable to have people asking him questions so freely. He prefers the anonymity he can usually mask himself in, with people not paying so much attention to him. He just had to go and stand out to the others.

He finishes his meal quickly before looking for Akiteru, pleading with his eyes to get out of here, away from all of these people. Luckily, Akiteru senses his discomfort and saves him, taking him back to his room. Akaashi wanted the familiarity of the piano under his fingertips once again, but the others… He could not find comfort in the others. Not right now.

So that’s where he spends the rest of the night, avoiding Akiteru’s attempts at conversation, ignoring the night guard that comes in to take his place once curfew hits, ignoring everything he could and pulling into himself. Not that it was much better in his head, but at least he knew the demons lurking in his dark thoughts.

He sat up that night, refusing to sleep, just clutching his pillow to his chest and wishing he was somewhere else, preferably with the warmth of other bodies to comfort him and tell him it was all okay, that he was okay and wasn’t a burden on them no matter if his head was trying to convince him otherwise. Anything would be better than the cold and unfamiliar bed he was forced into for a week.


	4. Twelve Days After

True to their word, Kuroo and Bokuto came to pick him up after his stay at the institution. The wards handed them Akaashi’s small bag of things, Kuroo signed the paperwork for him, promising that Akaashi wouldn’t be left without supervision until he had gone to therapy and they said he was well enough to be alone again. Akaashi was afraid of the therapist, because the one inside the institution was more of an interrogator than a psychiatrist. He tried to break Akaashi’s walls down every day, pry information out of him, but Akaashi had built them high enough that no one could force their way inside.

It was silent when they got into the car, Kuroo and Bokuto in the front, with Akaashi all alone in the back. But that was fine; Akaashi didn’t want to be touched or crowded or really talked to. He just really wanted to sleep.

But Bokuto broke the silence, “How was it in there, Keiji?” He was turned around to look at him while Kuroo drove and glanced back at him in the rearview mirror. Akaashi brought his legs up, hugging his knees, like he so often found himself doing inside the institution whenever he became uncomfortable, “It was… nearly unbearable.”

He couldn’t look either of them in the eye, even as they were both trying to catch his. He had been interrogated, pushed, prodded, and demanded from. The other patients had asked him endlessly to play the piano, the wardens had asked him to do things and move places, the therapist had interrogated him for answers he wasn’t willing to give, the bed was cold. The bed was so, so cold.

Bokuto reached back to set a hand on his knee, “Hey, we’re going home now, so we’ll get you all settled back in, and everything is gonna be okay. We unpacked your things from the boxes and tried to put them all back for you, so you don’t have to worry about any of that.”

Akaashi nodded, glancing up at him before averting his eyes again, out the window to things so familiar, but strange. He hadn’t expected to see any of this ever again. He had already said his goodbyes.

“I’m sorry,” Akaashi mumbled into his knees, but Kuroo had the best hearing he had ever encountered, and he shook his head, “Don’t apologize, pretty boy. We’re more than happy to be here for you. I just wish you would have come to us before all of this happened.”

Akaashi hid further in his knees, because he knew he should have, but he didn’t, because that would have troubled them all with things that they didn’t need to worry about. He couldn’t bear the thought of troubling them with things they shouldn’t have to deal with. It was a failure on his part, not theirs.

The rest of the ride was quiet and uneventful, but Bokuto’s hand never left his knee. While he was grateful, it was terrifying, because he was afraid of the way his body would react to the touch. He’d come to crave it. He already demanded warmth because of the cold in the institution, and Bokuto was a human furnace.

They pulled up to the small apartment complex, so normal after what Akaashi had just subjected himself to, but no less terrifying. Kuroo and Bokuto, probably Kenma and Oikawa and Iwaizumi and Tsukishima had all helped out, been in his apartment, touched his things. Akaashi pulled at his fingers to prevent himself from panicking. He took a deep breath. They were still here. They hadn’t abandoned him while he was under his watch.

Bokuto helped him out of the car while Kuroo took his bag. Even as Akaashi dug his heels into the ground, trying to work everything out in his head before he stepped foot back into the place where he had plotted his own death, they stayed beside him, never rushing him.

“I was thinking about making dinner to celebrate you coming home, pretty boy. The others wanted to come see you too. How does that sound?” Kuroo was nonchalant about it, as if it were just another night. Akaashi appreciated it, but he shook his head, “Not tonight. Tomorrow we can all have dinner, just… give me tonight to sleep.”

Bokuto nodded quickly, “That’s okay, Keiji! I’m sure no one will mind coming tomorrow instead of tonight.” Akaashi chanced a glance at Bokuto, and offered him what ghost of a smile he could. He didn’t want them here, seeing the decaying shell of a life he had left. 

But he swallowed his anxiety to get them into the house. They were probably annoyed that he was taking so long, and just wanted to go. But Akaashi wasn’t allowed to be alone… Were they trapped here because they had to look after him? Was he being a burden on them? That’s the last thing he ever wanted, what he had tried so hard to avoid in the first place with his death.

His hands shook as he reached for the doorknob, stopping short when he realized he didn’t have the keys anymore. Akaashi looked to Kuroo, who gave a short laugh, handing Akaashi the keys in his hand. Before he could second guess himself, he unlocked and cracked open the door. His apartment looked… put back together. No more boxes stacked neatly in the hallways. No more stale air. No more sheets covering the furniture. The one thing they hadn’t touched were his pictures, still hanging on the walls, crumpled at the edges from how many times he had took them down and held them with trembling fingers after particularly dark nights.

He longed to touch them now, but he restrained himself, walking into his old home as if afraid it would collapse under his feet. Kuroo went to go set his bag in his room, while Bokuto stayed at his side, thankfully quiet as Akaashi took back in the feeling of being home. He looked around, before he started moving things, putting them back in their place as he systematically had them before.

He paused, looking over at Bokuto, still clutching a small glass owl to put back on the shelf, “I appreciate you all unpacking my boxes, but I need things to be certain places.” Bokuto only nodded and sat on the arm of the couch, grinning at him, “It’s fine, Keiji. We tried our best, but do what you need to.”

Akaashi spent over an hour rearranging everything, with the other two following wherever he went. He wasn’t allowed to be alone, just in case he attempted to take his life again. He did his room last, but Akaashi lost his motivation once he saw his bed, slowly crawling into the freshly washed blankets. If he had anymore tears to spare, he’d let them out, because they had washed his bedding for him. They made sure he had come home to a clean house and nice smelling sheets. He buried his face into the soft sheets, burrowing his head under the pillow and gently clutching it.

He felt the bed dip beside him, first on one side, then on the other. He felt hands on his shoulders and down his back in a soothing motion, something Akaashi was afraid to admit felt nice. How long had it been since he had accepted a soothing touch?

Akaashi spoke softly, the pillow effectively muffling most of the sound, “I’d like a nap, please. Even just an hour or two.” He was so happy to be home, back in his own bed, and he just wanted to sleep. The hands left his back, and he almost allowed himself to miss their warm touch, but even that was allowing too much. Akaashi wasn’t going to force himself in between them, and break what made them happy.

A tear slipped out, and he clutched the pillow closer to hide it.

Someone pulled the blanket over him, and he felt soft hands on his shoulder, before they walked out of the room. He didn’t hear the door close, so he assumed they had left it open. Perhaps it was for the best; he wasn’t supposed to be left alone, but they were giving him time to rest, so he took it. Akaashi brought his head above the pillow, gently gripping the pillowcase as he fought himself. The relief of being home was quickly being overcome by the guilt and shame of having the others seeing him this way. He fell into an uneasy sleep.

Akaashi woke to gentle shaking and Bokuto’s face, as he had so many times before when they were playing volleyball together. Bokuto had always been an early riser, which in turn meant Akaashi was as well, because he wanted to be awake for Bokuto and Bokuto seemed to want his company in the morning.

It caused a nostalgic pain in his heart, and he couldn’t stop his lip from wobbling. He was always more honest with his feelings when he was tired, but it was harder to articulate them. Bokuto laid beside him and pulled Akaashi to his chest, running his fingers through Akaashi’s unruly curls, while Akaashi trembled in his hold. He hadn’t meant to get so emotional, but he couldn’t help it. He missed when things had him distracted. Everything had been better when he was distracted.

Bokuto spoke quietly, reining in his energy for a moment, “It’s okay, Keiji. You don’t have to be the strong one right now. Let me be strong for you for a while.” Akaashi trembled and croaked and clutched onto Bokuto’s shirt, nodding and burying his face in Bokuto’s chest to hide his eyes, wanting to stop seeing, stop feeling, stop remembering all the things that tormented him. But he could never tell, because telling would be admitting and he was nothing without his figurative walls, trapping everything in and keeping everyone out.

He didn’t know how long they laid there, Bokuto shushing him as he trembled and whimpered, but it’s long enough that Kuroo came into the room, announcing his presence with a soft knock on the door. Akaashi looked up at Kuroo, but seeing him caused a new wave of tears, so he quickly ducked his face back into Bokuto’s chest.

He felt the soft fingers in his hair pause, and Bokuto whispered softly, “Keiji? Do you not want to see Tetsu?” How was he supposed to explain that Kuroo wasn’t the issue, but it was that Bokuto and Kuroo were right here with him, Bokuto holding him and Kuroo climbing into the bed to lay on his other side, running soft hands up his side in an attempt to soothe him, and that it was something he could never have, something he should never have, because that meant getting in the middle of their relationship? They were happy, and deserved to be happy, and Akaashi just had to be selfish and greedy and want them both.

So he pulled away from them both, sitting up and wiping his tears away with the heels of his hands. He was burdening them again, with his mental and emotional and physical baggage, and he couldn’t do that. He was being a nuisance.

Akaashi went to get up, but both Kuroo and Bokuto pulled him back down, smothering him in a tangle of arms and heat. Kuroo spoke softly, “Does any of this, this problem right now, have to do with either of us? We can get Oikawa here if you’d rather not see us right now.”

Akaashi gripped them both tightly, because as much as it pained him to see them, having them go would make him feel even worse. He took a few steadying breaths before he nodded, only letting out tiny increments of the truth at a time.

Bokuto nodded, “Okay. So we’re causing a problem for you, but don’t go?” Akaashi nodded, barely able to push the words past the walls in his lips, “I’m afraid that if you leave, you’ll be gone for good.”

“When have we ever left you for good? Never. You’re kind of stuck with us, pretty boy,” Kuroo tried to soothe him, but he didn’t understand, would never understand. It’s not that they had before, it’s that they could, and his mind kept whispering that they should, just get rid of him because he was such a burden, but then his heart wanted to cling onto them, and he felt clingy and annoying and even more of a burden.

This time, when he pulled away to sit up, they let him. They let him get up and off the bed, while he fought the urge to just forget whatever was going on and just lay down again. Bokuto followed him up first, taking Akaashi’s hand in his. But Akaashi pulled his hand away, like he’d been burned, and held it against his chest. He dropped his eyes, “Please don’t touch me.”

Bokuto nodded and pulled his hands away, even though he looked ashamed of himself, and Akaashi didn’t know how to fix it. Kuroo did it instead, getting up and pulling Bokuto into a soft kiss before letting him go. Bokuto became cheery once again, and Akaashi recoiled a bit, walking out so he didn’t have to face not being the one who could cheer Bokuto up anymore. That job now belonged to Kuroo, and maybe he should feel relieved, because Bokuto deserved someone who wasn’t damaged. They deserved each other.

They followed him out, and Akaashi was surprised to find dinner already on the table. Kuroo stepped up and slowly led Akaashi to his seat, a plate already set down for him. Salmon, asparagus, cucumbers, things small and easy on the stomach. Kuroo had been considerate of him while making dinner.

Akaashi ate with a reservation unlike him, eating slow and hesitant. Kuroo and Bokuto both knew that he could put down three meals easily, and then even more depending on how much was left after everyone else had eaten, so this was strange and worrying. But they talked as if everything was alright, doing their best to distract Akaashi from his thoughts, even if he didn’t participate in the conversation.

They went on through dinner, and Akaashi couldn’t stop the small swell of hope that they were still here, so it must mean they didn’t hate him, that they didn’t want to leave him alone to fend for himself. He held onto that small hope even as thunderstorms gathered behind his eyes, drowning out the amusing conversation Kuroo and Bokuto were having and leaving nothing but white noise for him to suffer through.

Akaashi pushed his plate away, laying his head on his arms on the table. He spoke soft when he felt their eyes on him, “Just… give me a moment. I’ll be back soon.” They couldn’t know what that meant, but they set their hands on his, giving him soft support as they hushed their conversation, letting him do whatever he needed to get himself through this.

They could talk about this in the morning. For now, Akaashi could rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a quick question before we continue, and I'd like you all to weigh in on it. I have a few plans in the works, of some subplots within the greater narrative, and one of them may have something to do with Akaashi's gender identity. I do not wish to trigger anyone or make anyone uncomfortable, but my personal view on Akaashi has him more androgynous than traditional portrayals. If I could get my readers opinions on the matter, it would help me with how the story shall move forward.
> 
> Thank you.


	5. Fifteen Days Later

It was a few days before Keiji could make himself leave his own home. Being back in his own apartment – the one where he planned his death, the one where he had isolated himself from society – was enough. He wanted time to readjust. Kuroo and Bokuto took shifts with Oikawa and Iwaizumi watching after him, since both duos had their own responsibilities to take care of. They couldn’t watch Akaashi day in and out for an indeterminate amount of time, so they had shifts of 24 hours, where at least one of them would be with him.

Every time they switched, it took about two hours to console Akaashi that he wasn’t burdening them by making them babysit him. Akaashi was grateful, but sometimes, he was afraid that he was too much for them to handle, that they shouldn’t have to deal with him and his mess. They all dealt with him differently, and each was reassuring in its own way. 

Kuroo guided him with questions like, “Why don’t you take a shower? Why don’t we try and get some laundry done today? Why don’t we call Tsukishima and annoy him?” He let Akaashi go at his own pace, but he was always prompting him to do something other than get trapped in his thoughts. They often did the small tasks together, or at least with Kuroo always ready to help him if it was a bit daunting to do alone.

Bokuto was nothing but loving support, always speaking in soft praises like Akaashi had so often done. “It’s okay if you don’t want to leave your bed for a few hours, I’ll lay with you. You watered the plants, and you’re being productive! No one is being burdened because we all care about you, Keiji.” He had a habit of calling Akaashi by his first name now, and he hated to admit that it was extremely effective in getting his attention focused.

Oikawa spoke with him for hours, about nothing and everything all at once. Oikawa spoke about his own anxiety, telling Akaashi his secrets of getting over the doubts that sometimes got the better of him, how even though he was proud, he could ask Iwaizumi for help without feeling like a failure. They went at Akaashi’s pace for how much they revealed to each other, and it felt nice to talk to someone who understood.

Iwaizumi, while Akaashi had never been close to him, had proven to be extremely good at getting Akaashi’s attention to get tasks done. He wouldn’t let Akaashi’s mind wander for even a moment into his darker thoughts. He watched Akaashi do his tasks and called him out whenever he stopped to doubt something. While it almost frustrated Akaashi to no end, he was grateful for it. Iwaizumi was nothing but “tough love.”

It was Iwaizumi who actually got him outside, who actually grabbed his hand, pulled him from the couch, and dragged him outside and onto the sidewalk. Akaashi had fought, but as soon as he stepped outside, he fell near slack in Iwaizumi’s grip. The sun on his skin made him feel… happy? Was he happy? No, he was more content, but it was a nice feeling after being inside for a few days.

Akaashi slowly laid himself down, staring up at the sky as the sun warmed his skin. Iwaizumi sat beside him, sighing and leaning back on his hands, “Fucking finally.” Akaashi made a small noise of confusion, and Iwaizumi huffed a laugh, “You’ve been in that house for too long. You were only trapping yourself in a space that made you depressed, even if you say it makes you feel safe. You were doing what Oikawa does whenever he gets anxious. You’re hiding.”

Akaashi wanted to make a noise of protest, but he couldn’t, because Iwaizumi was probably right. Maybe he was hiding himself away because he didn’t want to face life when he felt like a shell of a human being. So he just looked to the sky instead, as if it would have all of the answers to his life. He thought it did, at one point.

Iwaizumi slapped his shoulder lightly, “Don’t lose your head. Stay here on Earth.”

Akaashi had the audacity to look sheepish, but it was cut short when he heard Oikawa’s shrill screaming, “Iwa-chan! Akaashi’s missing!”

Both Akaashi and Iwaizumi turned to the front door that Oikawa promptly barreled out of, “Iwa-chan!” He paused, taking in the sight of Akaashi laying on the ground and Iwaizumi sitting next to him. He furrowed his eyebrows before glaring, “You could have told me you were taking him outside. What if it had overwhelmed him?”

“I know what I’m doing. I have to baby you too when you get like this,” Iwaizumi huffed and rolled his eyes. It was a tease, Akaashi knew, but that didn’t make Oikawa stop his indignant squawk. Akaashi let out a soft laugh, closing his eyes and bringing a hand up to his mouth almost as if to hide it. 

When they didn’t continue their banter, Akaashi glanced at them, only to see them smiling softly at him. Akaashi jolted at the unexpected attention, and turned his face away once again. Oikawa laughed then, walking over and sitting until he was able to put Akaashi’s head in his lap, “You laugh so politely. I can’t wait until we pull a real one out of you.” Iwaizumi leaned back on his elbows beside him, “Even if it’s at your expense, Shittykawa?”

“Don’t call me that in front of Akaashi! He’ll lose his respect for me!”

Akaashi smirked, “Respect? Is that what I have?”

Oikawa pouted, “Akaashi, I will demote you as the second prettiest setter in our squad to the third. I’ll promote Mr. Refreshing above you.” Akaashi laughed quietly, “I thought he was the first? Oh, that must have been Semi.” That only made Oikawa start ranting about who was the prettiest and in which order and why, so Akaashi closed his eyes and focused instead on the feeling of the sun on his skin.

He was just starting to doze off when he felt fingers start carding through his hair. Akaashi opened his eyes to see Oikawa smiling softly down at him. Akaashi blushed softly in embarrassment and looked away, and Oikawa laughed, “I don’t care if you want to take a nap, but at least let’s get in the shade. We don’t need you burning up.” He let Oikawa move him over to the shade, Iwaizumi following, before they resumed their positions.

Even if he was embarrassed by the attention, he didn’t stop it. He was okay with this touch today. Akaashi found that sometimes he was repulsed by others touching him, and that usually coincided with the worse days, days he just felt gross and gloomy and didn’t want to talk or go out or see anyone. But today was fine, even if he was outside and away from the safety of his apartment. Well, was it really all that safe if he was alone in it?

He didn’t want to think about that part all that much.

“Isn’t it nice to get outside, Akaashi?” Iwaizumi was looking down at him, but he didn’t seem to be expecting an answer. Akaashi nodded, trying his best not to mess with Oikawa’s hand running through his hair, working out the knots in his curls.

Oikawa looked at his phone as it buzzes, before looking back to Akaashi, “Kuroo and Bokuto are on their way. Do you want to stay out here and wait for them?”

Akaashi hums softly, neither an affirmation nor a denial, but Oikawa takes it in stride and sets his phone down to lean back on his hands with Akaashi’s head still settled in his lap. He knew Akaashi wanted to stay out for just a while longer. He knew the feeling. Once he was outside after a particularly draining episode, nothing was going to feel better besides the breeze and the sun, except cuddling with Iwa-chan on the couch with a cup of tea and an alien movie.

But Akaashi didn’t need cuddles from him or Iwa-chan.

Oikawa wasn’t so dense as to believe that love and a relationship were enough to cure Akaashi’s depression, but having someone that wouldn’t quit, no matter how bad things got or whatever awful things crossed their mind, it made everything just a bit easier to handle, once past the anxious phase of being annoying and unnecessary, of course. Whether that came in the form of a friendship or a relationship didn’t matter much to him, as long as it was built on a foundation of unshakeable trust, like between him and Iwaizumi. He hoped Akaashi found that in some regard, preferably with Bokuto, whom Akaashi already had so much faith in.

It wasn’t long until Kuroo’s car was pulling into the driveway, leaving room for him and Iwaizumi to leave. Akaashi didn’t seem to respond, but Oikawa could see that everything in Akaashi was focused on that car, from the way he angled his head to the way his fingers fidgeted.

Bokuto jumped out of the car before it even stopped, “Keiji! You’re outside!”

Akaashi opened his eyes, and turned to look at Bokuto from Oikawa’s lap, “Yes, I am.” He spoke so quietly, so sweetly, that it made Bokuto grin down at him, Kuroo coming up behind to smirk down at the others, “So, you managed to get our little recluse outside?”

Oikawa’s about to boast about how great they were for doing so, but Iwaizumi cut him off, “I did.” Oikawa huffed and puffed, crossing his arms like a stubborn child, before Iwaizumi flicked him on the back of the head. Akaashi sat up and looked away, “Iwaizumi pulled me outside. He said I was hiding too much.”

Kuroo laughed, lightly hitting Iwaizumi on the back, “Did he put up a fuss?” Bokuto leaned down to gently put his hand on Akaashi’s shoulder, “How are you feeling now, Keiji? We were thinking of making dinner. Do you want to help us? It’s okay if you don’t want to, but at least stay in the kitchen with us.”

Akaashi, still not looking at them but rather at the grass below them, hesitantly brought a hand up to touch Bokuto’s, just a brush of fingers, “I’m feeling much better after coming outside. I’d love to help with dinner.”

While Kuroo talked with Oikawa and Iwaizumi – and Akaashi forced the thought away that it was about his failures – Bokuto brought him inside, kept his arm wrapped around him as he led them to the kitchen, humming a song Akaashi wasn’t sure was real.

"What is that song, Bokuto?” The question slipped out before he can stop it, and it’s only a moment of embarrassment before Bokuto seemed to brighten up at being asked, “It’s this new song I heard on the radio! I’ll play it for you sometime!” Akaashi smiled softly as Bokuto kept humming. He leaned against the counter as Bokuto gathered things for dinner out of Akaashi’s kitchen, not that there was much selection. Bokuto frowned softly, before looking down with a thoughtful expression, “We should have went grocery shopping for you before we came over.”

Bokuto looked at Akaashi, his expression so warm and hopeful that Akaashi felt like blushing just from the weight of it, “Why don’t we go out to eat, Keiji! I’ll pay for you!”

Akaashi’s face went from mildly surprised to gentle, and he looked away from the warmth of Bokuto’s gaze, “I wouldn’t mind going out.”

After all, it had been a while since he had been outside.


	6. Seventeen Days Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never been to therapy myself, so this is my best representation. Please correct me if something is completely wrong, and I will adjust as necessary.
> 
> EDIT (7/9/18): Someone by the name of Vetrasama was kind enough to point out that my representation of therapy was slightly off, so I did my best to correct the issue. It shouldn't change the chapter significantly, as the main point is the same, but it should correct the representation to a more authentic experience. Thank you for understanding.

Akaashi Keiji, for all he was worth, was vehemently against doing this. He knew logically that this was something meant to help him cope, to help him understand and get answers and advice and closure. But no one knew how much effort it took to walk up the steps, through the glass door, and to the desk. To keep his voice from being too quiet or harsh or wobbly. To not turn and bolt and not let Bokuto and Oikawa catch him and drag him back.

“My name is Akaashi Keiji, and I’m here for my appointment with Dr. Yamiji.”

The woman behind the counter, soft and warm but out of his comfort zone, smiled politely and nodded, typing away on her computer, “Alright, Mr. Akaashi, it seems like this is your first visit with us, so I’m going to have you fill out this paperwork, and Dr. Yamiji will be with you in a moment.” She handed Akaashi a clipboard full of papers and gestured them over to the waiting room, the chairs mostly empty, except for an older couple talking quietly amongst themselves.

Oikawa led them over to a spot that they could all sit together, and gestured Akaashi in-between them, “Sit, Akaa-chan. We’ll help you.” And they did; they helped with the services portion and appointment policies. They went over fees and insurance, records and confidentiality, contact information and rights. Bokuto offered to put down his and Kuroo’s information for emergencies, but Akaashi shook his head, he couldn’t make them take care of him like that. Bokuto put it down anyway.

An older gentleman stepped out from the back, followed by a young girl who went over to the older couple and walked out with them. Then he turned his attention to Akaashi, and his heart leapt into his throat. He wasn’t ready for this. This man wasn’t ready and he wasn’t ready and Oikawa and Bokuto were pushing him up to stand and Akaashi felt the terror spike.

Bokuto whispered soothingly, “It’s for less than an hour, and we’ll be out here the entire time. You don’t have to stay the entire time. You can walk out when you want to, and we’ll take you home no questions asked. Please, just try first.”

Akaashi nodded slowly, and Dr. Yamiji was smiling kindly, holding the door open for him so patiently. He took one breath, then another, and finally got his legs to move forward, “Hello, Dr. Yamiji, my name is Akaashi Keiji.”

The therapist spoke quietly, non-threatening and kind, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Akaashi. If you’ll follow me back to my office, we can start.” He led Akaashi back into a spacious room, decorated in the most soothing way possible, muted colors and soft textures. While the therapist sat in his chair, Akaashi stayed standing, walking along the wall and looking at the books lining the bookshelves.

“Do you like to read, Akaashi?”

Akaashi linked his hands together to rub the middle finger of one hand between his thumb and index finger on the other, “Sometimes. Depends what mood I’m in.” He wouldn’t fight the therapist by being uncooperative, but he was still nervous, still reserved.

Dr. Yamiji nodded and gave Akaashi a small smile, opening a folder on his desk, Akaashi’s folder, “It says here that you went through a week of therapy at the nearby institution for suicide, depression, and anxiety. Is that correct?”

Akaashi swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

“It also says you were rather uncooperative with the psychiatrist there. Is that right?”

Akaashi looked away, “I didn’t like their style of therapy, so I didn’t participate in it. I may have been sent there for mandatory watch, but that doesn’t mean I’m forced to accept their method of therapy. I couldn’t trust them, and I was going to be gone in a week. There wasn’t any point.”

He hummed and wrote a note down on his clipboard, one Akaashi was sure was about him. He set that folder aside to look at Akaashi, “Alright, so how about we start easy? Would that make you more comfortable?”  
“I don’t want you to think I’m fragile, sir.” Akaashi wouldn’t be able to handle another person thinking he’s fragile and weak.

He smiled kindly, “But it’s okay to be fragile here, Akaashi. Of course, we can go at your pace, but everything you say here is a secret between us.”

Akaashi couldn’t believe that, couldn’t believe that all of his secrets would actually be safe here. So he couldn’t open up, not yet. But for now, he could probably cooperate, so he sat on the chair offered to him and started to talk with the therapist, simple things at first, until they touched on the topic of why he felt so hopeless, why he felt like it was better to end it than endure it if he seemed to be so logical.

That’s the moment Akaashi felt the first threat of tears rise up and press against the dam of his eyelids, shaking his calm façade, and causing his emotional barrier to crack open, letting a few of the terrors out. Akaashi sat straighter and tried to rein it all back in, “I don’t… I don’t want to talk about that.”

But he did, because now that the cracks released the terrors, they wouldn’t leave him unless he spoke of them or drowned them in something else. His fingers started dancing on his knees, the desire to press these terrors into something more beautiful to make them easier to deal with impossible to resist. He started humming the song he would play for them, anything to get them out of his head, out of the tears in his eyes.

Dr. Yamiji leaned forward slightly, “What is it you’re doing there, Akaashi?”

Akaashi’s fingers paused for a moment at being caught, but soon started up again, “I play the piano to help…with the feelings, sir.”

The therapist nodded and sat back, making a note of that on his pad, and Akaashi kept tapping away at his knee. Dr. Yamiji hummed and gestured to an adjacent room, “I have a few tools in there to help with my therapy sessions. I believe there’s an old keyboard in there if you’d like to have at it.”

Akaashi perked up at that, but calmly walked to where he had been pointed to, not wanting to make a complete fool of himself in a haste to release these feelings into something tangible.

It was a basic keyboard, nothing fancy or exquisite or awe-inspiring. It was barely tuned correctly. But Akaashi started playing right there in the back room, leaving the keyboard where he found it and played to his heart’s content. He pressed all of the past into it, almost as of trying to physically remove it from his body.

And so they sat for a while, letting Akaashi play enough to calm down the racing heartbeat and traitorous thoughts. His thoughts swirled with gnashing teeth and festering thoughts that tried to rip him apart and leave him nothing, just like in the forest before his attempt. Because what was Akaashi Keiji besides what he hid behind those unforgiving walls?

He hummed softly as he played, the notes making him softer, more open with himself, “I’m an empty husk of a human being, so I don’t deserve to stay here, taking up space where a warm soul could take residence.”

“And why do you think that?” Dr. Yamiji was careful as he prompted, not wanting to backtrack on this small success.

Akaashi played a flat note, letting it fall, “I… am nothing. I contribute nothing to this world besides intellect; no passion, no ambition, nothing that makes the world kinder. If I were to disappear, someone could take my place and use it better.”

Perhaps that was a bit unfair to the others, but emotional connections had never been a strong suit of his. He looked at everything logically and kept his feelings behind those cruel walls, and what his logic said was that if he couldn’t contribute something extraordinary and original to this planet, what use was there to keep him if he could be replaced?

As they continued their conversation, Akaashi left the keyboard and returned to his seat, but he couldn’t force his gaze to the therapist’s. He didn’t want to see what he knew he’d find there: pity, false sympathy, hope. Akaashi had lost the ability to hope a while ago, and didn’t fancy opening his Pandora’s Box to find it again.

The end of their session neared, so Dr. Yamiji posed one last question to Akaashi, “How would your friends react if you left them? You said so yourself that they’re the ones helping you through this time in your life, and the ones who kept you grounded before this. Have you taken their feelings into consideration?”

Akaashi finally, for the first time the session, met the therapist’s eyes, eyes so cold and steely, it sent a chill along Dr. Yamiji’s spine, “I’ve thought about their feelings through more thoroughly than even my own, sir. I know Bokuto would get loud and angry before getting quieter than death and getting trapped in his own thoughts. I know Kuroo would run through every memory and try and come up with an explanation as to why and where the signs were that he failed to notice. Kenma would save all of his tears for the night while he’s curled up in bed and holding the pillow to his face to muffle the whimpers. Tsukishima would curse my name and demand that I come back and answer for my actions, that usual icy anger becoming white hot when struck. Oikawa would become freeze for the one split second he’s reminded of me, the briefest crack in that mask of his. Kageyama would have so many questions and so little answers that he’ll stay awake at night and try to make sense of them.”

Then Akaashi dropped his gaze, and just like that, deflated, “But at some point, there’s the little thought that says that they’ll get over it. I don’t matter to this world, and they all have so many others, that it won’t matter if I disappear. They’ll all become even happier if I’m not there to take it away, even if they cry for a few days. It says that if they really loved me, they’d let me go.”

Dr. Yamiji went to speak, but Akaashi cut him off, not wanting the false sympathy, advice he wouldn’t use, “I’m sorry, sir, but I believe our time is up. I’ll make another appointment at the front desk.” He stood quickly, escaping while he can still keep some semblance of composure.

He only kept his composure long enough to smile pleasantly at the woman at the front desk and set up his next appointment, then didn’t even spare Oikawa and Bokuto a glance as he rushed outside, sitting on the bench outside and hiding his face in his hands to keep the thoughts and tears at bay.

Someone pulled him into a light hold, and by the size of the arms, it’s Oikawa. Bokuto was probably inside asking about how it went. Why he ran out. Why he couldn’t keep it together long enough.

His shoulders trembled as he drew in a shaky breath, betraying him, and Oikawa just shushed him softly, starting to run fingers through his hair once more, working out the tangles. Oikawa had found that Akaashi enjoyed his hair played with when in the mood or needing comfort.

They could have sat there for minutes, hours, Akaashi didn’t know when he’s locked in his head, but eventually, there was a warm hand on his knee, definitely not Oikawa’s, so it had to have been Bokuto’s. Akaashi chanced a peek, and slowly dropped his hands at seeing Bokuto’s soft smile, “He said it went really well, considering it’s your first appointment with him. He said he’d be glad to see you back, and I made sure they had our numbers so they can call us if there’s an emergency.” When had Bokuto become so responsible? Since when did he not need Akaashi?

Akaashi nodded slowly and dropped his gaze, “I’m sorry.”

Bokuto shook his head, “There’s nothing to apologize for. I’m proud that you stayed the entire time. We’ll try again next time.”

They both helped him back into the car, letting him sit quietly in the back, clinging to Bokuto’s hand.

Yeah, next time. Next time, he’d do better to appear normal.


	7. Nineteen Days Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've added a link in the beginning for international suicide hotlines, if that is something you would like to check out.
> 
> I'm also sorry that this chapter is a bit shorter than the others.

Oikawa had planned the movie night long before he informed Akaashi about it, but he figured that Akaashi needed that little reprieve from the others, so he took the time off so they could have some time together to watch movies and talk. He knew that he was the only one who managed to pull some of the dark thoughts out by sharing some of his own, giving Akaashi a sense that he wasn’t completely alone in his feelings. Sure, Oikawa would never be able to understand the darkness inside that drives someone to end their life, but he did understand the darkness that made you withdraw and second-guess every word, every interaction with another, wondering if they were seeing something other than what you were projecting. Oikawa projected flamboyant self-confidence, Akaashi projected quiet assuredness. Neither of them wanted anyone else to know that there was anything broken underneath their masks.

“I’m not sure if watching the entire Alien franchise is what I would call a good night in,” Akaashi hums from the couch, fluffing pillows and blankets to make a cozy space for them to relax in while Oikawa messes with the tv, trying to find the first Alien movie.

Oikawa huffs playfully, “Well, sitting alone with our thoughts isn’t the best night in either.”

Earlier, he had found Akaashi curled up in his bed, eyes glazed over as he stared at the ceiling, and Oikawa knew he was dwelling on those feelings, and needed a distraction. Working through those feelings was a good thing, but not when left alone.

“Plus, we can always talk about those feelings in the safety of our little pillow fort, with snacks and sugary drinks that are clogging up our arteries. That’s the best time to talk about stuff.” Once Oikawa finds what he’s looking for, he hops up and goes to turn off the lights before taking his spot in their cocoon of blankets. He pulls Akaashi close when he sits, and starts the movie.

Oikawa makes snide comments about the stupidity of the crew, while Akaashi hums softly in acknowledgement, until the first movie is finished and they have finished off all of the popcorn.

“Hey, Oikawa?” Akaashi speaks softly from his spot on Oikawa’s shoulder, and when Akaashi doesn’t look at him, Oikawa keeps his eyes on the tv, giving him that little bit of privacy and hums to show he’s listening instead.

Akaashi pauses for a long moment before he continues, “Do you… ever feel like you’re losing time? Like one second it’s noon and the next it’s eight in the evening, and you can’t recall what you’ve done all day?”

Oikawa hums softly, before shaking his head, “No, I don’t lose time. I’m hyperaware of it, of every second that passes and I’m not doing something. My mind works that if I’m not doing something or entertaining anyone, I’m doing something wrong or I’m forgetting something, and the sense of urgency that kicks in is almost enough to make me start hyperventilating. But I’ve learned how to manage it, so that whenever that feeling hits me, I have a way to calm it back down.”

Akaashi nods slowly, “How do you calm it?”

“I like to make to-do lists, and then schedule in my down-time. Like right now, I know that everything on my list is done, so I know I don’t have anything else to worry about except being here with you. If my mind starts to go ‘Hey, remember this very urgent thing,’ I can be like, ‘Nope, that wasn’t on the list, and the list is done.’ That way, I can still feel productive but not burn myself out trying to figure out what it is that I’m not doing that still needs to be done.”

Akaashi isn’t sure if that would work for him, or if he’d just stare at the list on the bad days and hate himself for not doing it, giving himself more reason to believe that he’s just taking up space that someone else could have.

Oikawa gently squeezes Akaashi’s shoulder, “It’s not a strategy for everyone, but maybe it could help you, if you had someone you trust help you make the list. I had Iwa-chan make my lists for me in the beginning, and he made sure my list wasn’t too long, but enough to help me manage.”

Akaashi thinks it over, because maybe he could get Bokuto or Kuroo to write his lists if it came down to it. But he wasn’t entirely sure, still, so he spoke softly, “Would you explain it to Bokuto for me?”

That’s something Oikawa couldn’t do, so he shakes his head, “You need your list catered to you and your needs, so you need to be the one who sets the rules for it. But I’m sure Bokuto wouldn’t mind helping you out until you feel strong enough to start making your own.”

It’s quiet after that, so Oikawa starts up the sequel on the tv, giving them some kind of background noise so they’re not sitting in the silence while Akaashi is dealing with his thoughts. He’s seen it enough times that he can allow his main focus to be Akaashi.

The movie is over before Akaashi speaks again, “Why didn’t you guys end up leaving me behind? I’m sure it would have been easier on everyone, so you’re not all burdened by having to babysit me.”

Oikawa laughs softly, sadly, “Oh, Akaa-chan. You don’t understand how important you are to all of us, do you?”

Of course he didn’t understand. He considered himself insignificant in the grand scheme of the universe, and knew that all wounds could heal with time. He thought he wouldn’t leave much of a hole behind. So Akaashi just sighs and keeps his head on Oikawa’s shoulder, eventually falling asleep there.

Oikawa doesn’t have the heart to wake him, not when he sees the dark circles plaguing the other’s face. He hasn’t been sleeping well, and Oikawa knew no one would allow him any more sleeping medication after the incident.

So Oikawa sighs softly and grabs his phone, texting Iwaizumi that he was going to get Akaashi to bed and stay the night until Bokuto and Kuroo got there in the morning.

He had to admit, it’s been a little straining, but they both understood that their friend needed help, and once they got over the worst of it, they could back into their regular routines. Oikawa sent him a text goodnight before setting his phone aside, waiting until Akaashi stirred on his own to move them to bed.

Akaashi gets into bed with little fuss, but gently grabs Oikawa’s shirt when he goes to go back to the couch. His bottom lip trembles slightly, so Oikawa simply smiles and lays down with him, soothing his trembling.

“It’s okay, Akaa-chan. You just focus on getting better, and we’ll handle all the rest until you’re ready. I know it’s hard and you want to bottle it all up inside and hide from everyone that anything is wrong, but I promise, telling someone and getting help is always a better solution than isolating yourself.”

The trembling stops after a while, and Oikawa runs his fingers through dark curls until he feels Akaashi’s breathing even out against his neck.

Oikawa just hoped that Akaashi found someone to allow himself to depend on, instead of keeping himself trapped in his crumbling mental walls. He didn’t want to interfere, but if this went on for too much longer, Oikawa was going to. He knew that Akaashi needed a gentle touch sometimes, just like he did, but there also came a time when gentle didn’t cut it, and only loud and honest was going to cause a reaction.

Sometimes, breaking those walls down all at once instead of slowly and gently was the only way to save someone from building them back up again. 

And Oikawa knew the two to do it. Maybe they wouldn’t agree, but Oikawa was damn well going to make sure they knew what he thought was best.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are moderated because I'd rather not risk the chance of someone saying something nasty and triggering anyone before I've had a chance to review and approve the comment. Because of the sensitivity of the material, I want to take precautions wherever I can to be respectful to everyone.
> 
> If you would like for me to leave a comment unposted, as the comment is for my eyes only, please indicate that in the comment, with a simple "(Private)" before or after. I'll respect your wishes to keep a comment private.


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